FitzSimmons are in Trouble!
by TheGreenArrowDP2001
Summary: Hey guys, I'm doing a FitzSimmons story.


After their mission with Lorelei, the Bus needed to land and get resources before going up again to aid John Garrett and Antoinette Triplett due to the attack from Deathlok. The Bus landed in Pensacola, and Coulson told the team to enjoy the city.

Later that day, Fitz and Simmons were walking through Pensacola, as they couldn't leave until the Bus was fully fixed.

They had gone to lots of shops and bought some items; including a small screwdriver that could fold up into a small handy-dandy Sonic Screwdriver from the _"Doctor Who"_ show in his pocket.

They were both leaving a grocery store, both of them had their hands full. Fitz began to feel an odd sensation. He turned and looked over his right shoulder, and he saw something that caused him to become nervous.

When the duo had left the first store they went into, they bumped into a guy, who was the same guy following them. The man wasn't very subtly. He then looked forward, and whispered to Jemma, that they needed to hurry.

They began to walk faster, and his nervousness increased, as he saw that there was a man slightly older than Fitz, staring at them both as they walked. He hauled a cab and told Jemma to get in fast. They got in and told the driver their destination. The drop-sight within walking distance to the Bus, and they began to relax.

Fitz looked around and saw that the man who they bumped into was gone, as well as the man who was staring at them. He looked into the rearview mirror, and he saw the cab driver staring right at them both.

Fitz looked at the driver's right hand, as it lowered and pressed a button. Fitz heard a hissing noise, before he blacked out.

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The room was dark, the only light shining from a small lamp hanging in the corner of the room, the light shining through the dust that hung in the air. Jemma Simmons opened her eyes, her head throbbing.

Slowly she picked herself up off the floor, pushing her body to a sitting position. She didn't know how she got here. She didn't even know where _"here"_ was. The sights around her were foreign.

The walls were a gray stone and the floor was covered in dirt. The only thing that gave her any clue to where she was were the bars that were lining two of the walls. Jemma Simmons was in a prison cell.

Panic began to rise in her as she looked around the cell.

 _Where was she?_ She gingerly got up from her position on the floor and walked up to the bars that separated her and the hallway.

Putting both hands on the bars she shook them hard, but despite the ancient look of the cell, the bars were firmly in place.

She shook the bars one more time out of desperation before conceding that they would not budge. Wherever she was, she was trapped and she couldn't see any way out of it.

 _Fitz._

Shebegan to look around and saw him laying face down in the adjoining cell.

Jemma crossed the room as fast as she could and moved to the bars that separated the cells. Fitz was lying on the floor, completely passed out. "Fitz!" Jemma screamed, trying to wake her best friend and partner.

A cold rush of fear went over her. No. No. Fitz had to be okay. Jemma didn't know what she would do if he wasn't okay.

"Fitz!" She screamed one more, falling to her knees in front of the bars of the cell.

She reached her arm through the bars, stretching her arm as far as she could, trying to grab him. He was just in reach, her fingers clasped around his shirt, pulling at the fabric. "Fitz, please," she pleaded with him, the desperation and fear in her voice evident.

"Jemma?"

"Oh, Thank God," she sighed in relief. Fitz turned over to face Jemma. His clothes were covered in dirt and blood was caked in a cut on his forehead. Jemma's hand reflexively gripped his shirt harder as she took in his dirty, beaten appearance.

"What happened?" Fitz asked; his eyes filled with confusion as he took in the sights around them. "Jemma, where are we?" His eyes found hers, staring deep into them as he asked the questions that Jemma couldn't answer; the very questions she had been wondering.

"I don't know," she cried, her voice high in desperation. "I don't know where we are or how we got here."

Fitz moved closer to the bars of the cell, moving his hand to firmly grip the hand she had placed through the bars. She moved her other hand through the bars, allowing him to take that one too. His touch was comforting, but it didn't stop fear from coursing through her body. "Fitz, what are we going to do?"

"It's going to be okay," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. How was it that he could stay calm when she was a bloody wreck?

"How, Fitz?" She asked, her eyes searching his.

"We're together. We will get through this. We've been in tighter spots before."

Despite herself, she felt a small, tight smile tug on the side of her lips. She knew he was right; they had been in tighter spots, both together and alone. They could get through this. They _had_ to get through this.

"You are right. Surely the others are already on their way, out looking for us." Jemma tried to keep her voice from shaking as she spoke, not wanting to think about the possibility that the rest of the team could be in cells themselves. "I pushed on the bars, they seem sturdy."

"Well, everything has a weakness." Fitz said, hoping up from the floor and making his way over to the jail door. "We just have to find it." He gave her a smile, his eyes lit with the possibility of a new challenge.

She sat back down next to the bars, putting her hand back through and placing it on his knee. "It will all work…"

But Jemma didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. They both heard the sound of a door opening come from the far end of the hall, followed by the loud stomping of boots. Jemma hopped back up from her spot, moving back against the far wall.

Fitz had followed suit. They were still next to each other, the bars the only thing separating them, but their backs were up against the stone wall.

"Hello," came a voice as a man moved from around the corner. Jemma could hear a slight French accent in his voice. She looked at Fitz, her eyes filled with fresh fear. Fitz's jaw was set, a look of determination in his eyes. The man chuckled lightly.

"There is no reason to be afraid, not if you give me the information I want." the man said.

"And what information is that?" Fitz replied back, his voice steady.

"I want to know how Agent Phillip Coulson came back to life." The man's eyes moved between Fitz and Simmons, carefully watching them.

"That is classified information." Fitz replied, his voice giving way to a small shake.

Jemma looked at Fitz again, her eyes wide in fear. She didn't even know who this man was, or how he knew about Coulson. It wasn't until Coulson had yelled at them to read his file, did they learn the information, which led to the trip to the Guest House.

"We can't help you." Jemma said, her voice full of desperation.

"I beg to differ," came the simple response of the unknown man.

"I think you will change your mind soon enough." He walked towards the cell where Fitz was and looked off to the side. "Open it."

Two men dressed completely in black made their way out of the shadows and towards the door to Fitz's cell. Jemma could see each of them was carrying multiple guns.

They opened the door, flanking the other man as he entered Fitz's cell. The door slammed shut behind them. Jemma could feel her heart pounding as they made their way to Fitz.

Fitz looked over to Jemma once more, the fear in his eyes clear as day, before he turned to look at the men coming towards him. "We can't help you."

The other man just chuckled, a horrid laugh that filled the whole room, chilling Jemma to the bone. "I think we can find a way to change that," the man gave a curt nod to his companions.

Jemma watched in horror as one of them brought out a rod. The end was suddenly sparking with electricity. The man swung the rod, hitting Fitz square in the back. Jemma screamed and threw herself against the bars separating them, watching as Fitz's body convulsed.

The man pulled the rod back, before jabbing it once more at Fitz, sending him down on all fours in the dirt.

Tears began flooding down Jemma's face as she shook the bars with all of her strength, wishing she could get to Fitz somehow, someway. But there was nothing Jemma could do to stop the man from continuing to hit Fitz.

"I will never help you," Fitz spat, his head slowly moving to look at Jemma, who had fallen down the bars to be right in front of him.

Her eyes were bloodshot and her throat raw from screaming.

"Do whatever you want to me, but I will never help you." Fitz looked straight in her eyes, silently pleading with her, but not pleading with her to stop them, but to remain silent herself. Whoever these men were could not get the information they wanted.

"Very well then; let us try a different tactic," Jemma looked up at the man speaking, her eyes now filling with a hatred she rarely felt. "You may not care what happens to you, but what about your little girlfriend?"

Jemma turned to see two more men, in identical gear as the others, walk into her cell. One pulled a rod identical to the one that was used on Fitz and grabbed her roughly off the floor.

The man looked from Jemma over to Fitz.

"Last chance." the man said.

"No, stop!" Fitz yelled from his spot on the floor. "Don't touch her."

"Then tell me what I want to know," the man replied lazily, almost like the sight of the two screaming scientists bored him.

Fitz stammered, his mouth was open but no words came out. He looked up at Jemma, his eyes meeting hers. She was shaking her head no, almost incoherently, but her eyes were bloodshot and tears had already begun to stain her cheeks.

Fitz couldn't let her be hurt; he couldn't sit and watch as they tortured her. It was different when it was him that they were hurting, he could handle the pain, but he couldn't handle _this._

But that was just as unthinkable as watching Jemma be hurt. He couldn't give away SHIELD secrets. He could never forgive himself. _Jemma_ would never forgive him.

"Too late."

The man holding Jemma pushed her to the floor, pressing the electric rod into her side. She convulsed uncontrollably, her face twisted in pain. "Jemma!" Fitz screamed, trying to move closer to the bars, but the pain radiating through his own body was still too intense to allow him to move easily. "Stop! Jemma!"

But Fitz still had not given them the information they wanted to hear. The man with the rod swung it back again, hitting Jemma in the shoulder and sending electricity pounding through her body.

There was nothing that Fitz could do to stop it – not without handing SHIELD secrets over to the enemy. They had come from SciTech, not Operations, but they still were taught how to hold up in torture. _For moments like this._

"Who are you?" Fitz demanded, his voice filled with venom. He turned his head to look at the man behind him. "Are you with Centipede?"

"Centipede?" The man repeated, his voice filled with amusement. "My dear boy, don't be naïve. You don't really think they are the only ones that have realized the potential of Extremis. Centipede may have the most backing, but they are not the only ones out there."

The man walked closer to Fitz, crouching down and putting his hand on his shoulder. Fitz tried to move away from him, but he was so close to the bars that there was nowhere he could go.

The pressure from the man's hand only helped intensify the pain that had wracked Fitz's nervous system. He managed a small glance at Jemma who was on the floor shaking, but at least the man with the rod had not hit her again.

"SHIELD will find you, our team will come find us," he spit back at the man, wanting to believe his own words.

"We have done a good job staying off of SHIELD's radar until now," the man replied as he stood back up. But when you came so close, we knew we needed your help to fix our last little problem. When we are done here, we will fade back into the shadows. The only question is, will you have survived?"

"We won't help!" Jemma cried, her voice completely broken.

"I wouldn't be so sure," the man said back, his voice filled with confidence. He looked straight at Fitz as he spoke, an evil smile on his face. "This one looks like he is about to break."

With a curt head nod, Jemma was once again hit with the electric rod, causing her to scream and writhe in agony. And all Fitz could do was watch.

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End of Chapter 1


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